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I looked around and saw a waitress with a large tray, “Just in time Sweetie,” I hollered over the sound of the band, “I need that scotch.”“Here you go Daddy,” she responded, “but you’d better slow down or you won’t make it till dinner.” There was something about this 40 something waitress that clicked in my brain, yes, at 61 I was old enough to be her father, but she seemed to have a maturity beyond her years and I guess calling her “Sweetie” was my way of flirting.I am single, having screwed. ‘Stop you little weasel thief! I already gave you 50 bucks!’ Steve started his car and drove out of the driveway at 40 miles an hour. He quickly got on the main drag, but Madame Debby’s car was nowhere in sight. He wasn’t that upset, figuring it would be easy to spot a yellow mustang, and quickly accelerated to 80 miles per hour. In his haste he almost missed a crowded scene of cars and fire engines next to a large building on the left. Steve slowed down jerkily, thinking Debby may have hid her. As we drank it, she filled me in on her week. I found out that she was an honor student, played clarinet for the band, and was on the swim team. I'd been a competitive swimmer myself in high school and college, so she was delighted to have somebody to talk to who knew what the score was. And then I showed her the pictures we'd taken the previous weekend."Those pictures you took of me were dynamite, Cindy! Have you had previous experience in photography?" Not with good equipment. Just with. Who knew if we would have the time or energy once back in our condo to get it on. Saturday morning came and we met Mike and Shelly at the airport. As it was late fall, we were all wearing slacks and light jackets for the flight to Atlanta. The girls were excited and playful the whole flight, often giggling and whispering. Mike and I looked at each other with sheepish grins. “What’s that all about? Shelly hasn’t been this charged up in months.” “Beats me.” I replied. “Rachelle hasn’t stopped.
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